


Sword and Shield

by Zebooboo



Series: VoG Boys Week 2020 [3]
Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Hunting Dragons, M/M, Multi, and nearly failing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-21
Updated: 2020-04-21
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:02:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23771992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zebooboo/pseuds/Zebooboo
Summary: Pahanin doesn't think he could have resisted much longer.For VoG Week 2020.
Relationships: Kabr/Pahanin/Praedyth (Destiny)
Series: VoG Boys Week 2020 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1709875
Comments: 1
Kudos: 12
Collections: Works about the Vault of Glass Fireteam





	Sword and Shield

**Author's Note:**

> Not feeling too good about this one, but I'd already started up writing this entry 2 times before getting this out.

His vision is crossed, blurry and his mind jumping from each reality presented to him like a buffet and Pahanin doesn’t dare close his eyes. If he does, he will tumble and fall and never wake up again. Not because he won’t be able to. Because he won’t want to.

There’s an incoming claw and he realises too late that he has to move,  _ move,  _ **_MOVE._ ** Wind wheezes out of his chest from the tip of the claw crashing into his belly but he moves and it’s still not enough when the dragon starts breathing.   
  
A barricade drops before the fire comes to blast Pahanin in the face, Kabr kneeling before it, feeding it Light. They can’t stay here, they have no real cover and backup is too far away to get here in time, they have to  _ go. _

But Pahanin needs a moment to patch the gaping hole in his side, thread some Light around his fingers and he can't do that if he is being crushed under a dragon's damned foot. 

"CAN YOU MOVE?" Kabr shouts back and Pahanin can hear the strain of holding the shield. He grits his teeth, puts more pressure on the bleeding wound and nods. He will move. He will die to move but then they can regroup and he will come up fresh and-

And Praedyth is falling from the sky, descending like a vengeful angel that Pahanin hears about from cryptarchs and squirrely warlocks, radiant wings of fire sprouting from his back and a sword, long and broad, plunges in the Ahamkara’s skull. It roars in agony, thrashing about and it’s hissing voice drills into his eardrums. 

**_“You would not care for any of it? Ungrateful, all you children of Light, thinking you can have it as is?”_ **

It swats Praedyth off its head, seeming more enraged than bothered at the fiery broadsword that had tried to cleave its skull in two. He snorts, “Not much of a deal when you just wanna eat us, huh?”

Praedyth rolls to his feet from the tumble, dashing behind their meager cover, fire dripping from his back and the flaming sword is still in his hand. He twists it around and drives it into the earth, letting the Well of Radiance light up, nodding at Kabr.   
  
The titan leaps forward without a word, Arc flowing through him like he is a conduit and crashes his fists against the Ahamkara’s shimmering scales. Pahanin wants to jump in after him, cover him and let loose the Void like a needle hooking thread under skin and pin the beast down.

But Praedyth is taking his bloody hands away from his side and pressing a scorching hand to his side. He bites his lip until it bleeds and then he bites through it again, feels the ribs mend under the warlock’s healing Light, his bruised lungs and scraped liver.

“Up, Pahanin. We have to move.”    
  
It sounds so far away. Praedyth is right next to him, pulling him up and he is still so far away. He shakes his head, looks at the dragon getting distracted by Kabr but its eyes…   
  
They still pierce him with a gaze so cocksure and delighted, he still feels trapped under its glamour, wrestling with the things that can be and the reality he could come to bear to the world. If only...if only…

His face is roughly turned, Praedyth is shouting, he can see his lips moving but…   
  
Pahanin blinks, death dogs his every step and Praedyth and Kabr are dead.   
  
Pahanin blinks, they live, away, away in some time that’s not ever theirs.

Pahanin blinks and they are gone. Both gone. And it’s not death that took them from him but it’s what will bring an end to his aimless wandering.

Pahanin blinks and the reedy voice of the dragon whispers in his ear.  **_“It’s all yours to take, oh hunter mine. The only thing you have to do is wish it.”_ **   
  
He spies Kabr getting pushed back from the corner of an eye, his armor singed, Arc fading to faint crackles. Heat rolls over his face and Praedyth looks to be almost crying.   
  
He raises a hand to touch the warlock’s cheek just as Praedyth thrusts his sword through Pahanin’s eye.

\---

Pahanin blinks and the roar of a dying thing makes his ears almost bleed. He jumps to his feet, knives already up and he only sees Kabr, Void dripping off him like sap, standing over the Ahamkara with it’s skull completely bashed in.

He swallows dryly and lets his arms fall. Guess that’s over with.

A hand is at his shoulder and he looks at Praedyth standing at his side, he looks suspicious.

His throat clogs with shame and he looks away and sheaths his blades wordlessly. He starts walking away. 

“Pahanin…”   
  
Praedyth’s sad voice staggers his gait but he looks resolutely forward and walks.

“Pahanin!”

Kabr’s worried voice halts him and he clenches his fists, hides his face in his hood and scarf. No reason for them to see the tears of frustration welling up.

Fingers thread through his on his left side, an arm wraps around his shoulders from the right and he tries to swallow the disappointment he feels.

**_“The chance is not gone, oh hunter mine.”_ **

His hackles rise and he breaks away to pull his gun out and shoot straight into every beady little eye on the dragon’s head, and the ones on its wings, pulling the shimmering feathers out before shooting the ones hiding behind them too.

He probably stinks of fear and terror and he doesn’t dare look away from the bleeding beast.

It’s not truly gone, not until the bones are burnt to less than ash, but it’s dead. And if Kabr’s hand at his waist doesn’t feel very comforting he’s glad for it.

He wouldn’t have stopped himself from wishing if he had any more time to spend with the dragon.

It’s only when Praedyth pries the gun out of his hand that he realises he’s trembling. He hates the sinking feeling of failure as Praedyth holds his jaw and makes him look at them.

“You didn’t succumb.”

His tears felt bitter on his tongue and the relief undeserved. But it’s true. More real than any wish.

**Author's Note:**

> As always, BIG thank you to Gil for this week <3


End file.
